Page 12 of Push

“Don’t ask,” I muttered.

He frowned, worried eyes sweeping over me from head to toe. “Tobes, Jesus—” His words stopped when his gaze landed on my collar. The smudged lipstick told more stories than I was prepared to spill.

“Don’t ask about that, either.” I staggered past him into his apartment.

Ian’s mouth pressed flat. The front door closed without any questions. I squeezed my eyes shut to blot out the harsh light of his too-white living room and collapsed face-first onto the couch.

“Just quietly…” A mountain of fluff muffled my voice. “I feel really fucking weird.”

“No more drinking for you.” Ian tugged away some pillows and pushed me upright. “How’d you get here? Tell me you didn’t drive.”

Tipping my head to the side, I thought it over. “I don’t know.” I pressed a shaky palm against my cheek. Cold. “I think I walked. Mate… I can’t go home like this.” A wave of nausea hurtled up my throat, but I battled to keep it down. “Gwen…”

He nodded before dropping his chin against his chest. He understood.

Gwen wouldn’t handle it. I’d pieced together enough of her childhood from the snippets of information I’d dragged out of her over the years to understand that staggering in drunk was a terrible idea. Her mother had been an alcoholic, and it had torn her tiny family apart.

Gwen only acknowledged her past on the last day of October. Each year, she baked, picked one sad, lonely cupcake off the tray, grabbed a bottle of wine, and parked herself on the outdoor lounge. I’d lost count of how many times I’d scooped her up and carried her to bed after she’d fallen asleep with her face turned up at the moon. Liam’s birthday was the only time she ever drank more than one glass.

“Let’s sober you up,” Ian said, “and get you home.”

I think I said, “Thanks, man,” but my head swam, the white walls wobbling from side to side like a leaky boat lurching on the waves. My eyes drifted shut. The rocking slowed. The lights faded, and the quiet sank into my bones… So…nice…

“Tobes.” Ian’s voice pulled me from the fog. “Wake up.”

My eyelids dragged open. “Mmm?” Groaning, I stretched out my arms. “What time is it?”

“Five minutes since the last time you asked.” He plonked a mug on the coffee table. “Drink it. Black with a double shot.” He lowered himself onto the edge of the couch, each movement stiff, his posture rigid instead of sinking into the back like usual. His gaze shifted to the window. “Tobes…”

“Mmm?”

“Did you fuck her?”

I fought to keep my eyes open. “Gwen hasn’t let me touch her in what feels like forever.”Wait… Should I be telling him that? Probably not.

“Not…” He let out a sharp breath. “Jesus, notGwen. Kay.”

I snorted. “I wouldn’t fuck Kayleigh with a hazmat suit on. She tastes all wrong and squishes in the wrong places. Not likemy Gwendolyn.” Memories of happier nights lulled me into the quiet spot where even my bones were sleepy. “Gwen’s so…so…”

“So?”

“Flawless.” A tired smile stretched across my face. “Yeah, Gwen’s just this smart, sexy kind of perfection, you know?”

“I know.” Ian held out his hand. “Here.”

I narrowed my eyes on the blurry white blob in his open palm. “What’s that?”

“For your headache.” Ian shoved a glass of water in my face. “Take it.”

“Oh, yeah… Good idea.”

I popped the tablet in my mouth, and the glass of water was gone in two gulps.Notsuch a great idea. Too much liquid sloshed around in my uneasy stomach, threatening to lurch back up. I slumped forward and reached for the coffee.

I grimaced through a sip… Another… “Where’s the milk?”

“Not about to be spewed all over my new rug.”

I chuckled. “Smart.” I gulped a few more sips and then let my head fall against the back of the couch. “Coop, do you think Gwen will ever forgive me?”

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